


The Little White Dress

by justanoutlaw



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, No Dialogue, Traditions, christening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21538603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanoutlaw/pseuds/justanoutlaw
Summary: Traditions are important to Ella. Mostly because she had a lot of them stripped away by Tremaine.
Relationships: Cinderella | Jacinda Vidrio/Henry Mills
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	The Little White Dress

**Author's Note:**

> A week or so ago, @queen-of-the-merry-men said she headcanoned Ella broke into the Tremaine manor to get her old Christening gown for Lucy to wear. It turned into this one-shot.

The manor has changed a lot since Ella moved into it as a child. It had once been vibrant with cream-colored rose wallpaper and cozy furniture. She and her sisters would spend hours in the garden (being mindful of Cecelia’s herbs), hunting for bugs and having tea parties with their dolls. At night, they’d choose one of their rooms to have sleepovers in. It was rare they slept in their own bedroom for the first few years, until Cecelia and Marcus finally insisted that the girls needed to start getting used to doing things on their own. It had been a hard adjustment, but nonetheless, they still did everything together.

Until the night Tremaine returned and everything changed.

After Cecelia left and Tremaine moved back into the main house, the manor was redecorated. The wallpaper was stripped and black stripes were put up in its place. The once comfortable furniture was replaced with cold and unfeeling silver and maroon pieces that Tremaine had found from a faraway village. Ella had asked her father why he allowed for such things, but he simply told her to mind her step-mother. She was the woman of the house. What she said went.

That meant that the traditions were gone. On Christmas Eve, they used to hang their socks by the fireplace for Papá Noel and read stories. The following morning, they’d open presents and sing carols. Cecelia would make spiced hot chocolate and honey biscuits. The girls scarfed them down while their parents curled up on the couch together, watching the scene with a look in their eyes. They had been so happy.

With Tremaine, they were expected to be in bed early. There was no talk of Papá Noel. Even though Ella was old enough to know he didn’t exist, it still hurt. The first time she asked, Tremaine called her a baby and reprimanded her for wanting to celebrate so soon after the death of her sister. The next morning there were no gifts, Marcus hadn’t chopped down a tree that year. The box of handmade decorations made by all three girls was still stuffed away in the cellar. It wouldn’t be removed. Even in the years that they would celebrate, Tremaine would purchase fancy golden balls and wreaths. Ella never got any presents. She was told to host the many guests they had at the manor. Her father looked just as miserable as she did.

When her 15th birthday was approaching, she had asked about a Quinceañera. She knew it was a long shot, but it was something she and her mother had planned for months. Tremaine turned her nose up at the idea. She asked why Ella thought this milestone was anything important to celebrate? When Ella tried to explain it like Cecelia had to her, Tremaine told her to shut up and instructed her to go clean the fireplace. Ella did as instructed, with tears in her eyes. Drizella had a grand birthday thrown that year and Ella resented her during every moment of it, as she served all of her friends.

Now, Ella was a mother herself. She was determined to keep Cecelia’s traditions alive, no matter what. On Christmas Eve, she would tell her all about Papá Noel. She was already knitting her sock to hang on the fireplace on the cottage Henry was building them. Never would Lucy go without presents or knowing how loved she was. When the time came, Lucy would also have a quinces. It would be however she wanted it. A part of Ella felt blessed that her mother-in-law was Latina as well and could help her with the affair.

The first tradition, however, was her daughter’s baptism. Henry had let her plan it out exactly as she wanted, not caring how crazed she got. She found the church her mother had baptized her in, with the exact priest as well. They had Tiana on food, since she had shown her expertise with that. After careful consideration, they had picked her for godmother as well. Archie would be Lucy’s godfather and had agreed to travel with Snow, David and Emma for the ceremony.

There was just one thing missing: the christening gown itself.

While Tremaine had helped them turn Drizella into a statue, it had been a short-lived team-up. She had gotten what she wanted out of the deal, her daughter no longer a threat. However, she still made it clear that she blamed Ella for what happened to Anastasia. Ella was also nowhere near ready to forgive her for the amount of abuse that Tremaine had laid upon her. So, they agreed upon a truce. Tremaine would leave them alone and vice versa. It would’ve worked out perfectly if only Ella’s christening gown hadn’t been in the old manor.

She didn’t tell her husband or anyone what she was doing. Henry would try to talk her out of it, say they could just buy Lucy a new one. That wouldn’t have been the same. Ella needed it to be the same one that she wore to her own. It was tradition. Regina and Tiana would have for sure wanted to come as back up. No, this was something Ella had to do on her own.

Ella took a few trips past the manor to see when Tremaine would be gone. She finally figured out when she took her weekly trip to the market and the changing of the guards. With Drizella now a statute, this would be a lot easier than she originally planned.

She snuck in through one of the windows, tumbling in through the kitchen. Ella pushed herself up onto her feet and grabbed for her sword, wanting to be prepared for anything. She walked down the rickety stairs to the cellar that had been her bedroom for her final years in the home. The cot was still there, with the lone pillow and blanket. She had only been moved there once her father had been killed. The damp, cold and dark room made her sick most of the time. She had to power through it and perform her duties unless she wanted to face the wrath of Tremaine. God, she hated living down there.

Fumbling through her pocket, she found the match she had brought and lit the lantern in her other hand. The hat boxes piled high against the walls. A part of her was surprised that they were all still here. She would’ve thought Tremaine would have burned or sold all of her mother’s possessions by now. Why hold onto the things of the woman who supposedly ruined everything you held so dear? Well, according to her father, it hadn’t just been Cecelia in her mother’s mind. Gothel had been at fault too.

Ella took a step forward and scanned the wall until she found the one she was looking for. The box was bright blue with a hyacinth on the front. She carefully removed it from the middle, not wanting it to cause the rest to fall. Lifting the lid, she took out the dress. It was so tiny. Had she really once been as small as Lucy? That pure, so innocent and naïve of how cruel the world could be?

Oh, how she hoped she could keep Lucy from figuring that out.

The dress was still white as snow, with enough lace and frills to cover a town. There was a matching bonnet. According to Cecelia’s stories, this had been in their family for generations, she had worn it to her own christening, as had her mother before her. As Ella felt the dress between her fingertips, she felt closer to her mother. For so many years, she thought she had run away. That she hadn’t cared. In all reality, she had done it to protect two of the people she had loved more than anything in the world.

A week later, she stood in the church that she had been christened. Lucy wiggled in her arms. The dress was a bit big on her and the bonnet nearly covered her beautiful brown eyes. Henry stood beside Ella, his hand on the small of her back, beaming down at his two girls. Tiana and Archie were on the other side of the priest, their eyes also on their goddaughter-to-be.

This was the first major tradition of Lucia Cecelia Mills’ life. It certainly wouldn’t be the last.


End file.
